Vex (23 page)

“I’m thousands of years older than you.” Tiny commas depress at the corner of her lips.

“Did you know we’d be meeting? I mean here and now?”

She nods. It’s then I notice her eyes—an entire kaleidoscope of iridescent colors.

Several men tall as trees walk by, and I grow increasingly uncomfortable.

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything,” I sigh into her. “But do you want something from me?”  

“I do,” her smile fades as she moves us along down the side of the road. “First, I want you to know how much I truly love you. You’re my only child, and I’ll never have another.”

“I’m being raised by Counts.” I throw it out there in the event she wasn’t entirely aware of what on earth was happening.

We walk past rows and rows of trees all bearing bulbous ornaments of exotic fruit in every hue and every shape. The flesh toned ones, the size of overgrown pears, look obscene. Their masculinity exudes a certain sexuality and it makes me uncomfortable just looking at them. The boughs hang heavy and low, overburdened with their generous offerings.

Thick carpeted lawns stretch out before us then stop abruptly at a river, gushing with a thunderous roar. Flat elongated boulders decorate an alcove with their sparkling blue reflection. They look nowhere near like any rocks I’ve ever seen, more like polished gems that gleam in deep jewel tones of onyx and beryl.

She motions for me to take a seat on one as she stretches out beside me. I watch as Giselle goes off and talks to a group of guys sitting in the distance, dipping their legs while fishing poles sit spiked in the rocks behind them.

“Skyla, I know everything about you.” She takes up my hand again. “You’re my flesh and my blood—my exact representation in human form. I know the precise location of where you live and with whom. I am aware Lizbeth is your mother. I approved her.” Her gaze drops to her waist when she says it.

“What about my father’s death? Did you approve that, too?” It’s not like I’m trying to magnificently piss her off—I’d just really like to know.

“He was murdered. Justice is always served, Skyla. Not when man dictates, but it comes in time.”

I take in a quick breath. “Is Dad here?” A surge of adrenaline spikes in me, and suddenly I want to ransack the place until I see his smiling face.

“No, Skyla. He’s in paradise.”

“Can I go to him?”

“You’re mortal. No pass for you,” she winks.

“Then can you please explain why you would approve of Lizbeth Landon as my mother? I mean, I love her and all, but she’s a Count,” I feel the need to reiterate the fact, loud and often.

“Because I know your destiny. I weigh in on all of the possibilities that are able to transpire within your life.”

“Because you’re on the decision board? You carve destinies?”

“Something along those lines,” she takes in a deep breath. “In fact, that’s why I came to earth and had you. The world needs you, more than it could ever imagine.”    

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The World is Waiting  

“Skyla!”

“Giselle?” My voice sounds flat, distal. The day is traced out in grays and hazy shades of blue. It feels as though hours must have passed. I blink several times in an attempt to get my bearings.

“It’s me, Logan,” his hot breath pours over my face anxious and worried.

He drops a kiss onto my nose followed by the warm dew of liquid as he pinches his eyes with his fingers.

“Are you crying?” I croak the words out, struggling to sit up.

“I’m happy that I found you—alive.”

I lean up on my elbows and examine him. He seems genuinely glad to see me. Had I not driven myself here with my lack of athletic abilities, I would have thought Logan had something to do with the fact I landed on this side of the mountain.

“I would never throw you off a cliff,” he gives a half smile at the absurdity. “Can you move your legs?”

I wiggle my toes and squirm in my snowsuit.

“Yes,” I say, taking his hand as he helps me to my feet. I’m still locked in the hundred pound snow boots, and my hands are miraculously still warm in my gloves. “I’m more than OK.” The world gives a tiny warble, and my head throbs as if to disprove my theory.

Logan picks me up and cradles me in his arms as we traverse fallen branches and slicked ruts of ice that lay over sharpened rocks. It’s not until I come in contact with the warmth of his neck that I realize my face is numb, cold as a glacier. I press my flesh against his—rub my lips, my eyelids over his scorching skin. This is heaven.

He pauses to text Gage that I’m all right.

“I saw my mother,” the words chatter out of me.

“You did?” He examines me. “What happened?”

“She said the world needed me.” A vaporous plume emits when I say it. It blossoms over his head like a halo. I can’t help but note the irony as it evaporates as quick as it came.

“Why does the world need you?”

There’s an intensity in his face I haven’t seen before. It’s as though he’s been after this very answer himself.

If I did know the answer, I’m not sure I’d tell Logan. And I don’t really care if he’s able to hear me.

“I don’t know,” I say. “You woke me up in the middle of a very good dream.” Only it wasn’t a dream, and neither is the fact I can sense his craving for me pouring from his existence. I press my ear against his neck and feel the sizzle.

I love you, Skyla
. He says, picking up speed again.
I’d die every day to prove it
.

***

Logan returns me to the Lodge, he and Gage help me get settled in my room after the medics manhandle me.

“I’m so sleepy.” My eyes roll back in my head.

He swims up next to me, wrapping a warm arm around me.

I had to call Mom and swear up and down I felt fine.

I had to outright lie to Ms. Richards that I was fumbling around on my own and not passed out when Logan found me. And, lastly, I had to deny the fact I was in the middle of one almighty headache that feels like its more than capable of landing me in the Transport for real this time.

 “The nurse said to watch you,” Logan pipes up from the foot of the bed, “make sure you don’t sleep until after midnight.”

“That’s because she’s a sadist, like you,” I moan.

Gage pulls me in, touches his forehead against mine, and I wince in horrific pain. “God, Skyla—if it’s killing you that bad, I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“Look,” Logan leans in, “everyone’s at dinner and there’s a movie in the game room after.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, annoyed. “You want me to suck it up, eat dinner, and catch a flick?” Honestly, I don’t think I’d mind sitting in a darkened room pretending to watch a movie while I secretly fall into a blissful coma.

“I’m saying the best way to stay awake would be to come with me to see your Dad,” Logan takes a seat beside me. “I’m heading out in a little bit, and I don’t think they’ll miss us too much if we’re gone.”

“No,” Gage gives Logan a hard look, “she needs rest.”

“I have to go anyway.” Logan shrugs as though there were nothing that could stop him.

I don’t like the idea of Logan running off to see my dad for God knows what.

“Then I’m going,” I say, defiantly.

“Then,” Gage gives a reluctant nod, “it looks like I’m going, too.”

***

The moon’s round face stares down on a warm L.A. evening with an impression of a faded image on its surface that it brandishes like a worn out tattoo.

I miss L.A. nights. The balmy breeze picks up. The light is still on in my bedroom window and just as I’m about to point it out to Gage, it extinguishes itself.

My father steps out in his tracksuit. His shoes shimmer with built in reflectors that flick in the night like lightning.

“Right on time,” he smiles, trekking over lawn. “And you brought friends, one of them being my daughter,” his teeth illuminate as he grins. “Skyla,” he embraces me with a depressed sigh.

“So Logan has really been coming to see you?” I’m puzzled as to why.

“Yes. Hasn’t he told you? I’ve been mentoring him.”

There’s that word again. Marshall said he was mentored by my father as well, most likely in the ethereal plane before Marshall took up residency in Paragon.

“So what does mentoring consist of?” I take him by the hand.

“Strategies. Remember all those hours I logged reading books, watching movies about wars?”

It saddens me to hear him talk about himself in past tense, especially since he’s right here in the flesh still spinning on the planet. Well, in one time dimension at least.

“You were a war buff.” I cringe when I say it.

He used to take us to every museum he could find that housed any type of combat paraphernalia. My mother used to say he had a sick-obsession with wars—that all men did.

“I’m a strategist. I work closely with faction leaders, plotting out a game plan that will help us stay one step ahead of the Counts.”

“Did Logan tell you he’s converted—that he’s one of them? You’re helping the enemy, Dad.”

His eyes glint in the night as he cuts a look over to Logan, standing there trying to look innocent with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“He’s proven his loyalty.” Dad dips his gaze and transfers it to Gage as though changing the subject. “And who’s this?” He offers a polite smile.

“This is my boyfriend,” I say, pulling Gage in from the side. “He’s a Levatio.”

“Nice to meet you.” My father shakes his hand. I wish Gage could see my father bathed in the gold L.A. sunshine, not lost in the dark with nothing more than his voice and the whites of his eyes shining out at us like a disembodied spirit.

“Real nice to meet you.” Gage shakes his hand. “Skyla says nothing but great things about you. Do you trust Logan?” Gage could care less that Logan is standing less than three feet away—that they’re like brothers, and if anyone should trust him it would be the one asking the question in the first place.

“Yes, I trust him emphatically.” My father doesn’t hesitate.

“He tried to sacrifice me to the Counts,” I say. “I would never have gotten away if I didn’t panic and default to time travel mode.” I want to shout the words, wake the neighbors with all of this lunacy.

“His intent was a blood bond,” Dad says it low, gravels it out as though he knows all about it. “You would have been useless to the Counts afterwards.”

“How do you know this?” A part of me wants to shake my father.

“I’m privy to more than a few of their rituals. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m over thirty,” he points to his graying temples.

“And so is Logan.” I look over at him accusingly. He knows far too much, always has. And even in this dim light, I can see the thin lines around the ridges of his eyes. “He can’t hide his real age when he light drives.”

Gage steps in towards him, examines him in the luminescent moonlight, and frowns. “What are you meeting up for?” He looks to Logan, then my father.

“Come in. I’ll show you.” Dad leads us towards the house.  

We follow him into the sunroom off the back of the house, a glorified covered patio with a sliding partition that mostly acted as a dog house to the strays Mia brought home. A white wicker table and four chairs surround it. We each take a seat. It’s freaky to think I’m upstairs sleeping, that both Logan and Gage are here in my house—one for each of me. I bat the thought away.

“Logan and I,” Dad starts, “have been trying to glean a battle plan for the three of you once you get thrown into the ethereal plane. Your bodies will be transported, so should you die there, you don’t get a ticket back.”

“Marshall said I’d have to advance to Ahava to win the war.”

“Ahava?” Dad looks puzzled. “You need for him to show you the lay of the land. The Counts have an infantry set to fight.”

“How many in an infantry?” I ask.

“About fifteen thousand.”

“What?” I hiss. “There’s only three of us, well,” I look over at Logan, accusingly, “two. And it’s going to take a miracle to get the other factions to side with Celestra, they don’t have the balls.”

“That’s where the problem lies.” Dad rests his elbows onto the table. “Noster has volunteered to send units. It’s not entirely clear, but Noster may have a vested interest in Celestra’s dwindling numbers. As much as they want the Counts out of power, they realize their lineage puts them next in line to rule. Of course, there are a number of Celestra involved in the war. It’ll be a tragedy to lose another soul regardless.” My father folds his arms together. “Try and get the lay of the land, Skyla. That Sector friend might be your only hope.”

“I think Mom can help,” I say. “Not the Count you have me living with, the other one. I met her.”

 “When?” His face smoothes out.

“This afternoon. She’s amazing. She said she had to come to earth to have me. She said the world needed me, but then Logan came and woke me.” Logan and bad timing seem to go hand in hand.

“What have you learned from the Counts?” My father directs the question to the traitor in question.

“They have a resurrection process,” Logan leans in on his elbows. “They’ve been reanimating the dead for years.”

“The blue tubes.” I look over to Gage. “Ethan Landon was resurrected.”

I tell Dad all about the Transfer, the bodies floating in blue toilet water that preserves their tissue. I leave out the part of me doing time in Ezrina’s lair.

“They haven’t perfected it yet,” Logan continues. “Some of them are nothing more than pieced together monsters.”

“Like Chloe,” I say.

“No,” Logan continues, “I’m talking their brains, they’ve been fried and rewired.”

“When we were offing them during the New Moon festivals, you said I shouldn’t feel too bad about killing them, that they were less than human.”

“That’s exactly what I meant.”

Something loosens in me physically. I’m terrified to admit it, but I’m actually starting to trust Logan a little.

“Why do you have a supervising spirit?” Gage asks him point blank. It’s as though he picked up on the fact I was feeling something for Logan again and he wants to squash those feelings before they proliferate, eat up my entire existence.